April
by who the hell is patty simcox
Summary: "She needed to feel something more, something to at least make her feel human." Brittana. TW: SELF HARM.
1. Chapter 1

Junior year had been rocky at best.

In truth, a nightmare best described it.

September, Quinn had told everyone about her surgery and gotten her moved to the bottom of the pyramid. That alone was bogus. It was none of Sue's business if she wanted bigger boobs. She had the money. Her dad had payed for it all, no problem. It was her body, her life.

Still, Sue's words still stung.

_"Well, the big deal is that a person who has to pump her nonnies full of gravy to feel good about herself clearly doesn't have the self esteem to be my head cheerleader."_

Santana didn't have the self esteem to be head cheerleader. She'd known that from the minute she put on that Cheerios uniform two years ago. She had just hoped that maybe becoming head cheerleader would automatically instill that confidence in her, that maybe it would make her comfortable in her own skin.

It didn't work.

October, she and Brittany fought, like, really _fought, _for the first time ever. It really was all her fault. She had freaked out on Brittany when she confused their sexual and romantic relationship. There was no way for Santana to truly deny that she did want the two to mix, she was just... not ready. At this point, she was beginning to wonder if anything would make her ready.

They made up a week later. Immediately afterwards, Brittany told Santana that she was dating Artie, _really _exclusively dating just him. Santana just had felt trapped, hopeless. Some small part of her had been hoping that the Artie ordeal would open a window for Santana to really tell Brittany how she felt. By sticking with Artie, Brittany had efficiently shut that window on Santana's fingers, taping it shut, too.

Santana had shut back up after that. The small bit of confidence that she had, that maybe being a lesbian was okay, maybe loving Brittany was okay, maybe _she _would be okay, shattered. She and Brittany returned to their friends-with-benefits status, and nothing more. She became prickly around Brittany, though. She had less tolerance for Brittany's little confusions or airheaded remarks. Santana never realized what she would say to Brittany until afterwords, and could never figure out why. The last thing she had ever wanted to do was hurt Brittany.

March, their friendship became an issue again when Brittany demanded to know Santana's true feelings. Santana really couldn't blame her. She'd known she couldn't carry her masquerade on for much longer. She knew that Brittany wasn't stupid. She was going to see through Santana's skin sooner or later. Really, she was lucky to have held it in for so long.

Singing that song in front of the whole glee club had been humiliating. She couldn't believe the had even thought for a second that it would help. She had walked in to the room with a lump already in her throat. At the end of the first verse, her eyes began to burn, and before the end, tears were freely flowing down her face. Every loser in that room had this dumb smile on their face, like they were proud of her for taking some step that none of them could even comprehend the significance of. She wanted to smack them all upside the head. She had never felt more embarrassed in her entire life. And at the end, with Brittany looking at her with those sky blue eyes and just barely whispering, "Is that really how you feel?" Santana nearly left the glee club, to never come back. It was how she felt, exactly how she felt. She was confused about everything but her love for Brittany, and she knew the clock was ticking. If she didn't step up to the plate soon, Brittany would get in too deep with Artie, and she would never have her again. She was afraid it had already happened.

The next day, she told Brittany. She told her everything.

The words burned coming out of her chest. Her head spun. She felt like she was going to vomit. She didn't even feel fully there; she couldn't hear half of what Brittany told her over the blood roaring in her ears. She could only understand one thing.

Brittany rejected her.

Santana dug the singular most private thing out of her stomach and offered it to Brittany, and she didn't take it.

That night was the first time Santana did it.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the shower. She was crumpled on the tiled floor, head in her knees, shrill, hiccuping sobs wrenching out of the pit of her belly. The water was ice cold, making her skin crawl. The hot water had ran out long ago, but she couldn't be bothered to move. She didn't even feel like she belonged in her body. She needed to feel something more, something to at least make her feel human. She grabbed her razor and rapped it against the wall, hard, breaking the head in to pieces. She pulled a single blade out of the head and leaned back, examining it. Did she really want to take it this far? She'd never thought about this. She'd never specifically told herself that she wouldn't self-harm. She'd never thought she'd even feel so low. Sliding her knees down to the floor in order to fully expose her stomach, Santana shut her eyes and held her breath.

When she opened her eyes, there was a gash right above her left hipbone, about 3 inches in length. Blood welled out of it and seeped out in every direction, diluted by the water. In a weird way, it calmed Santana. Without a second thought, she cut again, and again. She didn't stop until her entire left side was dripping watery, bright red blood.

She set the blade down and leaned her head back against the wall, letting the icy water splash against her face. The pain in her side drew away from the reeling in her head. Her mind finally felt clear, and she was able to breathe.

It became a habit over the next month. Some nights she wouldn't cut at all. Some nights she would only leave one or two scars. About once a week, she would totally tear herself up, like she did that first night.

No one noticed. She wasn't in the locker room nearly as much as she used to be, since she was no longer on the Cheerios, and when she did have to change for gym, she made a point of not removing her camisole. She didn't have sex at all. Brittany's touch hurt too much, but anyone else's made her want to vomit. Sam was a nice guy, so he didn't have a problem with her not putting out. She started spending less time with Brittany and more with Sam. Brittany was just her friend, Sam was the one that she was supposed to love.

_They're not __that __different, _Santana would tell herself. Sam was almost like a male Brittany. The blonde hair, the blue eyes, the athleticism, the goofy smile and endless cheer.

Still, Santana knew she would never be able to fully replace her true love. Sam's hands here too rough, his jaw too square. When they kissed, he didn't taste like strawberries and cream like Brittany always did. When he rambled about things Santana didn't care about, she didn't think it was cute or endearing. It annoyed her.

Deep down, Santana knew that she only wanted Brittany.

They still hung out and had sleepovers. It was just different. There were rules. Clothes stayed on. They didn't even change in the same room. When one of them was showering, the other stayed out of the bathroom. They didn't talk about girls at all, only boys. Santana wouldn't dare bring up her sexuality, of course, but Brittany would. Santana would quickly shut her down, blowing off a hypocritical comment about how she respected her and didn't care that she liked girls, but didn't want to hear about it. Brittany would swallow and nod, knowing that Santana was actually saying that she didn't want to talk about her own orientation.

Brittany was respectful of Santana's boundaries. She knew that Santana wasn't in to guys, but she talked about them when Santana wanted to. She couldn't figure out why Santana was trying to hide it. She was gay, plain and simple. Santana had straight up _told _her that she was a lesbian. Now she was trying to take it back in, and Brittany didn't get it.

April, Santana was woken up in the middle of the night by Brittany.

"Santana. Santana, wake up," Brittany said in an urgent whisper, gently shaking Santana's shoulders.

Santana opened her eyes slowly, narrowing her eyes at Brittany.

"What do you want?" she asked groggily.

Brittany just stared at her with wide, concerned eyes. She opened her mouth to respond, but shut it soon after, unable to find the words. Her eyes flicked down to Santana's torso and then back up to her eyes.

Santana then noticed that her shirt was pushed up, revealing her scar-riddled hips and stomach. She quickly pulled it down, sitting up and jolting away from Brittany.

"Jesus, Britt! What kind of shit were you trying? We're not doing that anymore, remember?" she hissed.

"I didn't, I swear, I didn't even touch you!" Brittany quickly exclaimed. "I got up to go to the bathroom, and when I came back, I saw that!" She motioned to Santana's torso.

Santana exhaled shakily, putting her head in her hands. She shouldn't have let Brittany around her when she wasn't awake, she shouldn't let _anyone _around her like that. Her secret was just too easy to find.

"Santana," Brittany started, quiet, gentle. "Did you...did you do that?"

"You'd better not fucking tell anyone." Santana didn't dare look at the blonde, her voice thick with tears.

"Look at me," Brittany softly said.

Santana shook her head, her hands slipping in to her hair and gripping it firmly.

"Come on," Brittany urged, setting a hand on Santana's knee. Santana jumped, as though her touch had burned her. "Santana...why would you..."

"Because of you!" Santana burst out. Brittany's eyes widened and she shifted back. "You, and- and Artie! I trusted you, Brittany, I told you- I told you that thing! That thing I've never told anyone else! I did it because I trusted you, and you blew me off!"

"I didn't blow you off! I still care about you! I just, I can't be with you. I can't do that to Artie."

"Can't do that to Artie?" Santana sneered. "What about me? What about me, Britt? If you really cared about me, If you really loved me like you said you did, why would you put him above me?"

"I hurt him too! Santana, we had sex. We _have _sex. I can't leave him now!"

"You fuck guys and walk out all the time! Why is he any different?"

"You know why!" Brittany huffed.

"I want to hear it out loud."

"Because he's crippled."

"So his feelings are more valuable than mine, just because he just so happened to get hit by a car?"

"Santana! Have some compassion. He's never going to be able to walk again! I took something away from him that he didn't know he could ever have at one point! Did you even consider how hard this is for me?"

Santana shook her head, tears now flowing freely down her face. Brittany sighed.

"Let's just... let me start this over again. I love you, Santana. I love you so much, it hurts sometimes. I can't stand to see you like this. I hate that you feel like you have to hide, I hate that you...that you'd even consider doing this to yourself. Stuff's really confusing for me right now, though, and I want more than anything to- to..." Brittany started to tear up, and stopped.

"To what?"

"To be with you," Brittany whimpered. "You just, you don't get it. Artie's too nice for me to do that to him."

"I get it," Santana sighed, having calmed down.

Brittany looked at her wearily.

"I really do," Santana insisted. "It's just...at this point, I don't care if you're with Artie. No one has to know. You're the only one that I want."

Brittany stayed quiet. Slowly, she leaned in and gently kissed Santana. Santana's hands moved to Brittany's waist, gripping her shirt.

"Britt," Santana rasped, quietly.

"You have to promise you won't cut yourself anymore," Brittany said.

"I don't want to, I never wanted to," Santana murmured.

"Promise," Brittany repeated, firmer.

"I can't," Santana objected. "I want to promise you that, but I don't know if I can stop."

"Then I'm getting you help. We're talking to someone."

"Holly's not here anymore, Britt."

"Then we'll have to go to Miss Pillsbury."

"She can't handle shit and you know it," Santana grumbled.

"Santana, we have to try. None of this is okay, you need professional help. You can talk to Miss Pillsbury for free, and no one else will know," Brittany insisted. "I'll go in with you, we can fix this."

Santana gave in and nodded her consent. Brittany pressed another small kiss to Santana's lips, then pulled her back down on to the bed.

"I love you, Santana."

"I love you, too."


	2. Chapter 2

Instinctively, waking up in the morning, the first thing Santana always checked was her clock.

This particular Saturday, the red block letters read 10:45. That was good, it meant that her parents had already left for work.

Santana slowly sat up. She didn't want to create too much movement and risk waking Brittany up. Reaching her hands up for the ceiling, she stretched out her spine and yawned. A small smile on her face, she turned to look at Brittany. Brittany, her love, who was finally back where she belonged, even if she did still have some strings attached.

Brittany, who was already wide awake.

The blondes eyes flicked up to Santana's face, then slowly down her body. She had the covers pulled tight around her shoulders, and there was something in her eyes that just seemed... helpless.

"How long have you been awake?" Santana asked, using her soft, just-for-Brittany voice.

"I never slept," Brittany replied. Her voice was small, sad, and it made Santana's heart squeeze.

"What were you thinking about?" Santana questioned, laying back down next to Brittany.

"You. You and... you know," Brittany murmured.

Santana's eyes fell and she nodded.

"I... Santana, I'm so, so sorry. I never meant to push you there. I never meant to push you anywhere at all. I just... I'm kind of trapped right now, you know?" Brittany confided.

"I get it, Britt," Santana said. "You didn't push me anywhere," she continued, softer. "I did this to myself."

"You told me I did it," Brittany whispered.

"I didn't mean it. I... I guess I just freaked out. No one else knows, B. I'm sorry I yelled," Santana reassured her.

"I just..." Brittany sighed unsteadily. "I don't... I don't want to..." Her face began to crumple and she drew in a shuddering sob.

"Britt, baby, come here," Santana cooed, drawing the girl in to her arms. She rubbed Brittany's back as she began to cry in to Santana's shoulder. Santana's throat started to tighten, seeing the usually chipper girl cry and knowing it was her fault. "I'm sorry," Brittany whimpered. "I'm so, so sorry. I just want to take it all back, I want to fix everything." At this point, Santana was crying too. They laid there for a while, holding each other tight, until their sobs began to die down.

"Santana?" Brittany asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Can I see them?"

"You did..."

"I want to see them again."

"B, I really don't want to-"

"Show me, Santana."

Santana sighed in defeat and sat up, pulling her shirt off. Brittany sat up as well and just stared at Santana's scars for a while. Eventually, she reached out to gently run her fingers over them. Her eyes were still wet with tears, her breathing ragged. Santana sighed at the feeling of Brittany's smooth, dainty fingertips running over her coarse, jagged skin.

"How long?" Brittany eventually spoke up.

"I first did it the night I...you know, when I told you that thing."

"That you love me?" Brittany said, painfully candid. Santana winced at hearing her say it out loud.

"That I love you," she responded gingerly.

Brittany nodded, pensive. "And, do you do it every night, or...?"

"Not always," Santana answered. "I guess it depends on what kind of day I have."

"But you do it often?"

"...Yes."

"And you've done it recently," Brittany concluded, running her fingers over the newest of Santana's scars, puffy and red. Santana nodded, drawing her lip in to her mouth.

"After glee on Monday, we're going in to see Miss Pillsbury. Together," Brittany asserted. Santana nodded again.

Brittany stood up, walking over to the window. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she stared outside, deep in thought. Santana, feeling self conscious in spite of the fact that she and Brittany were alone in the house, tugged her shirt back on.

Brittany broke their silence again.

"I have to leave."

"Where are you going?"

Brittany hesitated. "I told you yesterday."

"You're still going to Artie's?" Santana sighed, disappointed.

"Santana, we went over this. I can't blow him off."

"I know," Santana muttered, leaning back against the headboard.

"We can just... wait for him to dump me. Then we can start worrying about us," Brittany reasoned.

"He's never going to break up with you," Santana retorted. "You're a tall, pretty, blonde cheerleader and he wears sweater vests."

Brittany looked back out the window.

"He's not in love with you, he just wants to own you," Santana continued angrily.

"I'm leaving," Brittany said quietly, walking over to Santana. "You have to promise me that you won't cut, today or tomorrow. Not until we see Miss Pillsbury."

Santana averted her eyes from Brittany's and shrunk away.

"Promise me," Brittany pleaded.

"I promise," Santana said softly.

Brittany nodded and gave Santana a small, sad smile before leaning in to kiss her. Santana returned the kiss, lingering for a moment after Brittany pulled away.

"I love you, Santana."

"I love you, too."

Then she left.

Santana only lasted 10 minutes before breaking her promise.

* * *

><p>At seven o'clock Monday morning, when Santana first saw Brittany again, she was all smiles. She didn't think about the secrets under her shirt, or the promise she broke. She just thought about how she was getting to see Brittany. How the two of them may not be dating, but they're in love and didn't mind it. It was an improvement, Santana thought.<p>

At four o'clock, when glee club ended, Santana was singing a different tune.

Brittany reached for Santana's hand to lock pinkies with her, but Santana stayed frozen in place.

"Santana, come on," Brittany started.

"Brittany, are you ready to go?" Artie interrupted, smiling. Santana stared at him, her inner panic starting to seep through her skin.

"Oh, um, Artie! I can't, um... I have plans, sorry," Brittany said quickly.

"Oh?" he remarked, his smile falling. "What are those plans?"

"It's nothing," Brittany responded, gritting her teeth and glancing at Santana.

His eyes shifted between them, suspicious. Santana felt ready to bolt out of that room, away from both of them. At the same time, she just wanted to shrink against Brittany and hide like a scared child.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then," Artie muttered, then turned around and wheeled away. Brittany guiltily watched him go.

"Come on, Santana, before Miss Pillsbury leaves for the night," Brittany urged her.

"I can't do it. I'm not ready," Santana said, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked around at Mr. Schuester and the kids still lingering around the choir room.

"Please," Brittany pleaded, looking in to Santana's eyes.

Brittany could've asked Santana stand on a table in the lunch room and announce that she was pregnant. If she looked at Santana with those gorgeous, ocean blue eyes, she'd do it, no questions asked. Santana nodded her consent and Brittany quickly led them out of the choir room.

* * *

><p>Brittany and Santana sat, side by side, in Miss Pillsbury's office. Santana fidgeted nervously, restlessly looking at the wall of windows behind them. People were still occasionally walking past, what if they saw her in here? She didn't want anyone to even have remote suspicions about anything that would lead her in to counseling.<p>

"So, what is it that you girls wanted to talk about?" Emma questioned, smiling a bit too big. Brittany looked to Santana, prompting her to speak. Santana shook her head and pursed her lips. Emma looked between them, sensing their nervous energy. Her smile faded.

"This is a totally safe place for you to discuss... whatever it is that you're here for. I promise that all of my sessions with my students are kept completely confidential," Emma reassured Santana. The Latina, however, wasn't listening, but instead focusing on the pattern of the carpet.

"Santana," Brittany said softly, reaching to take Santana's hand. She grabbed it eagerly, holding Brittany's hand in between both of hers. Anchoring herself with the blonde's hand, Santana breathed in deeply, organizing her thoughts.

"I... I've over the past couple of months... I've..." she tried. Brittany nodded, encouraging her. "I've developed a... kind of, a problem."

"Oh?" Emma asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Might I ask what kind of problem?"

Santana looked to Brittany, desperate. She squeezed Santana's hand comfortingly.

"I cut myself," Santana admitted.

Emma's eyes widened with shock and she immediately turned around to her stock of pamphlets.

"No pamphlets, please," Santana muttered.

"Santana, they'll help-"

"I don't want your damn pamphlets!"

Emma flinched and turned back around.

"Sorry," Santana apologized.

"It's alright, really, I shouldn't have pushed you, um," Emma stuttered. "How long has this been going on, I mean, when did you start, exactly?"

"About a month and a half ago," Santana admitted slowly.

"Why? What made you think it would-" she paused, searching for the right words. "Help?" she tried, gingerly.

"I don't know," Santana sighed. "I... I felt so terrible, I got to this point where I didn't even feel like a person anymore. I didn't feel like all of me was in my body. I just wanted something to wake me up a little bit. It got way out of hand."

"But what made you feel that way?"

Santana looked to Brittany, only to see Brittany looking away. Her expression was one of extreme guilt, and she pulled her hand away from Santana's. Santana shook her head and sighed. "Miss Pillsbury, would it be okay for me to not talk about that?" she asked, her voice small and wounded. The woman's gaze shifted between the girls, confused.

"I- I'm really sorry, I don't know what to say. You should- you should talk to your friends, or your parents-" Emma stammered. "Or parental guardian!" she added quickly, nodding at Santana.

"My parents are both around, thanks. They're doctors," Santana corrected dryly.

"Of course they are. Why wouldn't they be? Silly me," Emma laughed nervously.

"I think I'm done here," Santana concluded, standing up.

"Santana, wait," Brittany interjected. Miss Pillsbury's eyes darted between the two of them, helpless.

"I'm done," Santana ground out. "I'll meet you in the car, B."

With that, she turned out the door and down the hallway, leaving Brittany and Emma alone. The two stared at each other, unable to find words.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Pillsbury," Brittany eventually apologized. "She's not good with talking about her problems."

"I get it," Emma said, calming down. "All things considered, I think she handled this first meeting well, you know?"

"About that- I don't think she's going to want to come back."

Emma sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I just barely dragged her in here this time. She's tough to convince about this stuff, but she really is trying. I made her promise to not cut until after today, so, that's a start," Brittany continued, unaware that Santana broke her promise.

"Brittany, I know you think you're getting this under control, but this is really serious business," Emma babbled. "She might seem like she's going to get better, but she won't. Most self-harm victims experience suicidal thoughts, so she's at an incredibly high risk for that, if she hasn't started already. Even if she doesn't, there's always the chance that she'll take it too far and bleed out. You need to call attention to this. She needs help."

Brittany stared at Emma, dumbfounded.

"You could lose her," the woman added, shaking her head.

Brittany's heart was beating fast, her head spinning.

"Can I have some of those pamphlets?" she asked quietly.

Emma nodded and gave her a handful of pamphlets on depression, self harm and suicide. Brittany thanked her before she left.

* * *

><p>Brittany slipped in to the passenger's seat of Santana's car. Santana sat in the driver's seat, rigid.<p>

"Hey," Brittany greeted her softly.

"Hey, B," Santana responded in the same tone.

"I know you didn't want any of her dumb pamphlets, but I grabbed them anyway," Brittany explained.

Santana narrowed her eyes at Brittany.

"This is bad, Santana," she insisted. "Any help is good help."

Santana nodded, giving Brittany a small smile and taking the pamphlets from her. She set them in the seat behind her, wedged in between the cushions so they wouldn't slide away.

"Thank you, Britt," she said. "I... probably shouldn't have left so early, right?"

"You shouldn't have," Brittany agreed.

Santana nodded, drawing her bottom lip in to her mouth.

"I know you don't want to go back," Brittany acknowledged. "But I think we should make these a weekly thing. Just as a progress check."

"No, I'm not doing that," Santana refused.

"You need help!" Brittany objected.

"I took the pamphlets! I'll read them. That's my help."

"You need more than that," Brittany insisted, her voice wavering. Santana opened her mouth to reply, but stopped after hearing Brittany's voice shake.

"We can go next Monday," she said in a small voice.

Brittany nodded her approval, reaching across the center console to take Santana's hand.

"You're being really brave, Santana."

Santana gave a sad little laugh.

"I mean it. I know it's hard. Three days clean is an improvement, though. I'm proud of you."

"It's...it's not a big deal, B, really..."

"Yes, it is! Can you make it another three days?"

"I didn't even make it the first three!" Santana blurted.

Brittany leaned back, stung.

"I'm sorry, B, I didn't want to bug you, or disappoint you, I just... I couldn't do it. I need it," Santana whimpered.

Brittany nodded, breathing in deeply.

"I'm not going to lie and say I'm not disappointed," she started slowly. Santana sighed, slumping in to her seat.

"But, I'm not mad about it. I don't know what you're going through. I just want you to beat it," the blonde continued.

Santana nodded, not meeting Brittany's eyes.

"I'll be here for you whenever you need it," Brittany promised.

"I know," Santana said quietly. "Thank you."

"But, I need you to promise me something."

Santana looked up, wet, brown eyes meeting blue.

"Text me, call me, whatever. Just, whenever you want to cut, or when you cut, if you really can't make it, get a hold of me. I want to help you."

"I will," Santana nodded.

"Thank you."

The brunette leaned across the center console, hesitating for a second before pressing her lips to Brittany's. Brittany returned the kiss, sweet and loving. Pulling away, Santana turned the car on.

"Let's get you home," she said, smiling. She looked to Brittany who was staring wide-eyed out the windshield. Santana followed her gaze, immediately wishing she hadn't.

There was Artie, accompanied by Tina and Mercedes, gawking at them.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **__I'm very, very thankful for the positive response the first chapter received (however small the audience was), so I figured I'd write a little more! I see that more of you are faving and following this story than are reviewing, and I'd like to ask you to please leave me some reviews. I'd love to know what you think of the story! Tell me what you like, what you don't like, and what you would like to see happen next. I'll be eagerly listening. Until the next chapter, thank you for reading. :)_


	3. Chapter 3

Brittany's hand immediately flew to the door handle.

"Unlock the car," she ordered. Santana looked at her, eyes wide, jaw gaping.

"Unlock the car, Santana," she repeated, firmer.

Tina and Mercedes exchanged a look, knowing that they shouldn't have seen what they just saw. Artie's expression, however, had turned hard, glaring at Santana through the windshield.

Santana was frozen, staring straight ahead at their three fellow glee clubbers. Brittany reached across Santana and unlocked the doors for herself, all but jumping out of the car door.

"Artie, it's not what it looks like!" she insisted, rushing over to him.

"So, this is what you were too busy with to be with me? Her?" Artie shouted, motioning to Santana, who had gotten out of the car at last and was hurrying over to Brittany.

"I had to help her with something-"

"Help her? You were kissing her!"

Brittany fell silent, looking to Santana for support. Santana's expression was one of pure panic, and she was visibly shaking.

"You were going back to her place to have sex, weren't you?" Artie accused.

"We weren't, I swear!" Brittany interjected.

"I was taking her home," Santana finally spoke up.

Artie shook his head.

"I know what you two do when you're alone," he said, his voice quivering. "Brittany, I told you, I don't want you around her! She just wants to break us up!"

"Damn straight, I do!" Santana yelled, stepping towards Artie. Brittany grabbed Santana's wrist, holding her back.

"What's your problem?" Artie barked.

"You're all up my ass, accusing me of fucking my best friend! I'm as straight as a board!" Santana shouted back.

Mercedes and Tina started to back away, not wanting to be involved.

"I know you guys have sex! I know that you fuck my girlfriend!"

"How about you go with your damn boyfriend?" Santana snarled at Brittany. "I'm out of here."

"Santana, wait!" Brittany called, as Santana stalked to her car. She was ignored, and Santana got in the car and drove away as fast as possible.

Brittany stood in the middle of the parking lot, hopeless, watching Santana go. Worry and guilt gnawed at her stomach. She felt like she was about to throw up, pass out, or do both.

"I can't believe you," Artie said from behind her, and Brittany could hear that he was crying. Clenching her fists, she turned around. "Why? Why would you let her get to you?"

Brittany opened her mouth, unsticking the roof of her mouth from her tongue. "Artie," she started, but couldn't find it in herself to say anything more.

Artie turned to Tina and Mercedes. "I'm sorry, I'm just gonna wheel myself home," he muttered before turning away.

After he had gone, Brittany turned to the other girls, unsure of what so say. They didn't seem to be able to find their voices either.

"We were going to the Lima Bean. You can come with us if you want, Britt," Mercedes offered.

"Something tells me you need a little girl talk," Tina added with a smile.

"Yeah," Brittany said, nodding. Mercedes gave a sympathetic pout and slung an arm around Brittany's waist. Tina unlocked her car and the three of them got in to it, then drove off to the coffee shop.

* * *

><p>By the time Santana pulled in to her empty driveway, she was failing to choke back her tears. She felt a small bit of relief that her parents weren't home. At least she could have alone time.<p>

It felt like it took all of her energy to get herself up to her room, but Santana managed. She all but collapsed on to her bed, fisting the sheets and pulling them in to her body. Her stomach churned violently.

She was gay.

She was gayer than Ellen DeGeneres packing a strap-on, wrapped up in only a pride flag.

That might've been okay at some point. She might've gotten used to it, some day.

But this wasn't the time.

People couldn't know yet. She was too scared.

Hell, Kurt had to transfer schools to escape the death threats that he received for no other reason than being gay. What were they going to do?

Santana Lopez, badass, queen of Lima Heights Adjacent, was terrified.

Loud, wet sobs and shrieking wails tore out of her throat. She pulled at the blankets, the blankets that she and Brittany had been wrapped up in so many times together, where they had fucked, where they had made love.

Love.

She loved Brittany.

She loved Brittany more than she'd ever loved anyone else. She wanted to be with her. She wanted to hold her hand in public places and cuddle in the movie theater and just not care what anyone thought.

She loved Brittany, and she couldn't be sure if Brittany felt the same way anymore.

They got caught sucking face, and Brittany tried denying that anything happened at all.

Brittany, who had always been so brave for her, didn't take the fall with her.

Santana's skin crawled. She felt dirty, impure. She just about ripped her shirt off and began scratching at her scars with her bare hands, reopening old wounds. Skin and scabs were caked under her nails, blood smudged on her hands, but Santana couldn't find it in herself to care. She needed to bleed, she needed to feel anything other than the horrible burning in her stomach and lump in her throat.

She pulled herself up from her bed, just to stumble over to her dresser. She flung open the middle drawer and rummaged around it, leaving bloody hand prints all over her t-shirts. Finding her prize, her coveted razor blade, she scored it all the way across her abdomen, from hipbone to hipbone, relishing in the bite it left. She continued to cut all over her torso, not caring about how much blood she lost or where it went. The blood seeped in to the waistband of her skirt and the underwire of her bra, leaving dark red stains on both.

She eventually ran out of unmarred skin to cut in to.

Hey.

Her wrists looked pretty inviting.

Experimentally, Santana dragged the blade against her right wrist.

"Shit," she exhaled slowly. It was deep. The skin was soft, and there was a lot of blood.

Perfect.

Santana continued to cut all up her forearms, leaving angry, dark red slashes. It felt too good, she couldn't stop. She needed to feel this. She needed this high to feel human.

The blood dripped off of her fingertips on to the white, tiger striped throw rug. She sunk to her knees, dropping her blade in the process.

Shit, she was tired...

Her mind briefly flickered back to Brittany in the passenger seat of her car, not even an hour ago.

_"I don't know what you're going through, I just want to help you beat it."_

_"I just want to help you beat it."_

_"Help."_

Santana fell, face-forward, in to the rug.

* * *

><p>"So, I think it's finally a safe time to ask what the hell that was all about," Mercedes started, a hint of humor in her voice.<p>

Brittany, Mercedes and Tina were situated around a table in the Lima Bean, all with tall cups of iced coffee.

Brittany looked in between the two girls, hesitant. There was so much more to the story than they understood. There were so many things that she couldn't tell them.

She settled for lying.

"I don't know," she said, shrugging. "Artie's super possessive. He's convinced that just because I'm bi, I want to get with Santana. Like, can't I just have a best friend?"

"We saw you two kiss," Tina reminded her.

_Oh. Right._

"Brittany, if you and Santana do have a thing, it's okay. We're not gonna judge you about it," Mercedes assured her.

"We don't have a thing," Brittany maintained.

Mercedes and Tina both gave her the same knowing look.

"We have a thing," Brittany sighed. "We have a really big thing."

"And you're still Artie? That's totally not cool," Tina scoffed.

"I know it's not, and I feel terrible, it's just..." Brittany trailed off.

"It's just what?" Mercedes prompted.

"I can't tell you all the details. You'll just have to trust me," Brittany said. "Stuff's really confusing. At this point, I just have to help Santana."

"Help her with what?" Mercedes asked, but was cut off by Brittany's phone ringing.

"Is it Artie? Don't answer it," Tina said.

"It's not Artie," Brittany returned, putting up a hand to silence them. The screen of her phone was lit up, the ID said said _Santana's Mami._

"Hello?" Brittany asked as the picked up the phone, confused.

When Santana's mom answered, her voice was thick, tight, and Brittany could tell the older woman was crying.

_"Brittany, I have some bad news, and I need to know if you know anything about it."_

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_I'm sorry that this chapter is so short. I just really wanted that cliffhanger. (I have a thing for cliffhangers, if you couldn't tell.) Remember, no reviews makes a sad author, and sad authors don't update!_


	4. Chapter 4

Brittany's heart dropped to the floor.

"W-what's wrong, what happened?" Brittany stammered in to the phone.

_"When I went home for the day, I... I could see that Santana was home, her car was in the driveway, but you know how she's always got her music on, and I couldn't hear anything, so I went to check on her and... and... she was out cold, covered in blood. God knows how long she had been there."_

"Oh my god... oh god, oh my god, where is she now? It she okay?" Brittany gasped.

"What's wrong?" Tina whispered. Brittany shook her head, silencing her.

_"She's in the ER, we don't know what's going to happen... There was so much blood, Brittany, she lost a lot-"_

"I'm right down the street. I'll be right down. Meet me in the waiting room." Brittany hung the phone up without listening for a response from Mrs. Lopez. She immediately stood up and rushed to the door, leaving her coffee behind.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mercedes called after her, but received no answer.

Brittany tore out the door and down the sidewalk. Thank god no one was out, giving her a clear path to run down, not that Brittany wouldn't knock over anyone in her way.

She had to get Santana. This was all her fault, she should have went after her. She shouldn't have even gotten out of the car in the first place. She was supposed to stand by Santana, she was supposed to protect her.

Brittany barreled through the waiting room doors, frantically searching for auburn hair.

She found Santana's mother pacing the floor. Brittany hurried over to her.

"Mrs. Lopez!" she panted. "Where is she? Bring me to her, I need to see her-"

"Brittany, no, you can't, no one's allowed in right now," Mrs. Lopez answered. Her pale face was streaked with tears, eyes brimming with worry.

"I need to see her!" Brittany repeated.

"You can't," the woman firmly said. "You can tell me what happened, though."

Brittany sighed, wringing her hands together.

"I don't... I don't know what she did exactly. I think I might know what happened, though," she started.

"Take a seat, dear, you don't look too good," Santana's mom said, giving a small smile. She ushered Brittany in to one of the seats lining the walls of the waiting room. Brittany returned the smile the best she could. Santana's mom was had always been like a second mom to her. Brittany had probably spent as much time in the Lopez household as she had spent in her own home. Mrs. Lopez worked in a small beauty store downtown, just for a little extra cash. She didn't even have to work, due to the large amounts of money that her husband brought in. The two of them and Santana were able to live more than comfortably on his paycheck alone. She just didn't like sitting around all day, and she could only find a job in retail due to the fact that she had never gone to college.

"Now, I don't care if you know all the details. I just want to know what you know," Mrs. Lopez said carefully, setting a hand on Brittany's knee.

"Right," Brittany breathed, nodding to herself. How could she tell her what happened without spilling all of Santana's secrets? She couldn't tell Mrs. Lopez about them. Santana hadn't come out to her parents yet. Brittany knew that she didn't have the right to tell Santana's mother. Only Santana could tell her.

"We got in a fight," Brittany admitted. "She got really upset and ran away. I didn't know what to do, and I didn't think she'd take it this far. I didn't think she'd do it at all, she promised me-"

"Wait," Mrs. Lopez interrupted. "Are you telling me that she did this to herself?"

Brittany looked her feet, unable to hold Mrs. Lopez's gaze. She looked absolutely devastated. She nodded, small, ashamed. Mrs. Lopez's hand flew over her mouth as a sob broke out.

"I thought it was going to be okay! We had just met with Miss Pillsbury about it, and we were going to have another one next week. It just... everything happened so fast," Brittany rambled.

"Do you mean to say that you knew Santana was thinking like this?" Santana's mom choked out.

"Thinking like what?"

"Thinking about killing herself!"

"She wasn't! At least, I didn't think so," Brittany sighed. "She's had this problem for a while though, with cutting herself. I thought we we're getting it under control, I thought she was going to get better-"

"You knew, and you didn't tell anyone?" she repeated, a note of anger coming in to her voice.

"Mrs. Lopez?" a soft male voice came. They both looked up to see a young nurse. "You can go see Santana now. She's awake."

"Thank you, sir," she sniffed, standing up. Brittany followed her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, family only," the nurse gently said to Brittany.

"Brittany's like family," Mrs. Lopez assured him. The nurse nodded with approval.

"But," she sighed, turning to Brittany. "I'd like a few moments alone with her, if you'd just wait out here. I'll come get you when you I'm ready."

Brittany sat back down, understanding.

"Thank you," Mrs. Lopez whispered, patting Brittany's shoulder before she followed the nurse away.

* * *

><p>When Santana woke up, she was nothing but confused. Her mind felt foggy, and she felt that she barely had the energy to keep her eyes open. She wasn't in her room anymore, for certain. The loud, steady beeping somewhere behind her left ear told her she was in the hospital.<p>

At that moment, she saw her mother enter the room.

"Mi'ja," she sobbed, going to Santana's bedside. She wrapped Santana up in a tight hug. Santana didn't embrace her in turn, just let her hold her.

"Mami?" she asked quietly.

"Hm?" her mother hummed, pulling back and sitting in the chair next to the bed.

"Am I going to die?" Santana whimpered.

"No... no, honey, no, you're going to be okay," she cooed, taking Santana's hand. "You just lost a little too much blood, you'll have to stay here for a day or two."

Santana sighed, unable to tell if the answer had satisfied her or not.

"Brittany told me what happened. Well, what she thought happened," her mother said gently.

"What'd she tell you?" Santana asked.

"That you tried to kill yourself," she replied, barely above a whisper. Santana shook her head.

"I didn't try," she breathed shakily. "But, I know that if I died, I wouldn't care."

"Mi'ja... why? Why did any of this happen? Why didn't you talk to anyone?" Mrs. Lopez was desperate.

"I was talking to Brittany, and the school counselor too-"

"Did that work?"

"No, but we just started-"

"Santana. Look at you. Look at where you are now. I want you to think, long and hard. Would this have happened if you were getting better?"

Santana sighed, fixing her eyes on the ceiling.

"Mami... can we not do this now? I'm tired," she murmured.

Her mother nodded slowly. "Don't think this conversation is over, though. We need to talk about this."

"I know."

"Before you go to sleep- Brittany's here. Do you want to see her?"

"Yes, please."

* * *

><p>Brittany was nervously leafing through <em>People <em>magazine when Mrs. Lopez came out to get her.

"Brittany," she greeted quietly, but her tone didn't stop Brittany from jumping out of her seat.

"How is she? Is she okay?" she babbled.

All Mrs. Lopez said was, "You can go see her, now," and took Brittany by the arm.

Brittany walked slowly down the hall, her legs so much longer than Mrs. Lopez's. When they turned in to Santana's room, Brittany felt like she might die.

Santana looked worse than she'd ever seen her before. She looked so much smaller, her skin sickly pale. Her forearms were bandaged with white medical tape and she had the sheets of her bed pulled around her tight, holding them for comfort.

"Santana," Brittany exhaled.

"Mami?" Santana asked, not looking at Brittany. "Can you leave us alone?"

"Of course, mi'ja," she answered, exiting the room and shutting the door.

"Santana, I'm so, so sorry," Brittany said, quickly moving to Santana's bedside. Santana continued to stare hard at the ceiling.

"As soon as I see Artie tomorrow morning, I'm breaking up with him. This has gone way too far," Brittany continued.

"Why? You're just trying to sate me so I won't do it again," Santana said, monotone.

"No, I'm trying to get my life in order so I can help you with yours," Brittany said as she down next to the bed.

Santana gulped, tearing her eyes off of the ceiling to finally look at her lover. Brittany saw that she wasn't anywhere near as stoic as she let on. Her face was completely broken, and a single teardrop fell down her cheek.

"What happened today, Britt? Why did you do that?" she rasped.

"I don't know," Brittany admitted. "I didn't know what to do. I was scared for you, mostly. I didn't want your secret to get out- well, either of your secrets."

Santana nodded slowly.

"Britt?" she prompted.

"Yeah?"

"Will you kiss me?"

Brittany gave a small nod, licking her lips. Santana still wanted her. After everything that happened today, Santana wanted her. She gently grasped Santana's cheeks as she kissed her, long and slow. Santana trembled against her. Brittany's heart ached, now faced with the reality that any one of their kisses could potentially be their last.

Emma's voice echoed in Brittany's head.

_"You could lose her."_

Brittany didn't want to ever stop kissing Santana.

* * *

><p>It was Tuesday morning, and while what Brittany was about to do wasn't <em>right<em>, it was, ultimately, the right thing.

She had ridden the bus to school, since Santana normally drove her. It always felt like the best way to start the morning. Santana would pick her up, they'd drive to the Lima Bean, get coffee together, then go to school and drink their coffee together in the courtyard. Santana still wasn't fully recovered from the previous night, though, so Brittany would just have to go without for a day.

Artie was sitting at a table in the courtyard with Tina and Mercedes, plus Kurt. The way they looked at Brittany when she came in to view left her with no doubt that they had been gossiping about her.

"Artie, can we talk?" she asked softly, nodding over to the furthest corner from the table.

"Sure," Artie agreed. She could hear the dread in his voice. She knew he knew what was about to happen. After what happened last night, it was really the only logical solution for them. Breathing deeply, she wheeled him away from the glee kids. She made sure to sit down on the steps, so they were at eye level. She knew he had thing about her standing at times like this. It made him feel too vulnerable.

"Artie... we... we can't be together anymore," Brittany sighed.

"Can't?" Artie questioned.

"Can't," she confirmed, drawing in another deep breath. "I know how much this meant to you, Artie, it's just that... it didn't mean the same thing for me. And I can't keep pretending that it did, no matter how badly I want you to be happy. And I want that, I want it so bad. It's just time for us to move on. It's been time, for a while."

"Let's just discuss what this is really about, shall we?" Artie argued, his face hard and cold. "You got caught cheating with Santana. Santana couldn't handle her actions actually having real repercussions for once, so she ran off and slit her wrists. Now you're standing by her side, just so she doesn't do it again."

Brittany felt anger bubbling up inside of her, and she struggled to control it. "I cheated on you," she started, slowly. "I get that. That was awful, and I'm sorry. But it wasn't about sex. She and I haven't even _had _sex in months." Brittany hesitated, her stomach turning somersaults. "I'm in love with her. We're in love. I know you don't like it, I just... I need you to respect it. You and I are over."

"So, you _did _have sex with her while we were dating?" he clarified. Brittany nodded, her eyes cast on her knees in shame.

"God, I can't believe you," he scoffed. Though he was trying to be tough, Brittany could hear the lump in his throat.

"I know I messed up, but, you can't- please, please, _please _don't tell anyone about Santana and I. It'll destroy her," she begged.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone," Artie snapped. "I'll be the good person here. I'm gonna rise above you, Brittany."

"Yeah," Brittany sighed, her guilt prickling at the backs of her eyes. "Thank you." Artie didn't respond, just rolled away.

Brittany stood up on shaky legs, turning around to climb the stairs. Classes didn't start for another 10 minutes, but she guessed she'd just be early today. She didn't want to hang around here.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_As usual, I'd like to thank you guys for your continued support of this story. It means a lot. :) I'm not sure how many chapters this has left in it. Maybe two, maybe ten. I still don't even have much of a plot fleshed out. What do you guys think?_


	5. Chapter 5

Despite the unfriendly attitudes that she was met with that morning, Brittany found that by the time glee club rolled around, almost everyone had forgotten her indiscretions or had forgiven her for them. When she walked in to the choir room, she was swarmed. Everyone wanted to know where Santana was, how she was doing, what happened.

Artie wheeled in to the room not far after her. "Give her space," he told the crowd, though he refused to look at her. Brittany silently thanked him as the glee club quieted down, allowing Brittany to walk to her seat in the back of the choir room. She hadn't sat there in a while, but even something as small as a chair felt like a homecoming. This was where she and Santana used to always sit together, before all of the drama started. She set her bag on the seat next to her, where Santana normally sat.

Everyone followed Brittany to her seat, sitting or standing around her.

"Are you finally going to tell us what's really going on?" Puck groaned, impatient.

"Everyone already knows," Brittany muttered.

"Not really," Sam said with a shrug.

"We've only heard rumors," Rachel clarified. "We know you know the truth, being as _close_ to Santana as you are." Brittany winced at the emphasis that Rachel put on "close." She knew that Brittany and Santana were more than just friends, now. Everyone in that room knew.

"Yeah, and we wanna know if it has anything to do with why you ran out on Tina and I faster than Usain Bolt yesterday," Mercedes added.

Brittany sighed, looking around at all the expectant faces.

"She _didn't _try to kill herself," she started. Everyone's faces twisted with confusion.

"Then why's she in the hospital?" Quinn asked.

"She didn't _try,_" Brittany repeated. "But she might as well have."

"What does that even mean?" Mercedes asked, her brow furrowed.

"I should just start from the beginning," Brittany sighed. "Yesterday, after rehearsal, Santana and I went to go see Miss Pillsbury about..." She trailed off, unable to find the right words.

"About?" Rachel prompted. Brittany shook her head. She really shouldn't be telling anyone about this. This was supposed to be Santana's responsibility.

"If you don't set the record straight, people are just gonna keep spreading rumors," Sam said. He and Santana had officially broken up about a week before. It wasn't really a big deal. They had both decided that there wasn't even really a reason for them to be together (Besides Santana trying to replace Brittany, but she could never let him know that.) and that they should just see other people. They were still good friends, and Sam was worried sick about her.

"She's got this problem with cutting herself," Brittany forced out. Eyes widened, people gasped. The glee kids all looked at each other, shocked beyond words. "I found out on accident, and I just wanted to help her, so I took her to see Miss Pillsbury. You know, that way, we could see someone for free and no one would have to know about it. She could talk about it more and start getting better," she continued. "After that, Santana and I got in her car to go home, and we kissed, and... and we were caught." Brittany motioned to Tina and Mercedes. Artie was the only one in the room not in the huddle. He had his chair parked in it's normal spot in the front row, and was currently absorbed in a book. "I freaked out, Artie freaked out, Santana freaked out. She left me there and drove off, then went home and stuff got out of control really fast," Brittany said, feeling a lump build in her throat. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to cry. She was absolutely not going to cry, not here. Not without Santana to hold her through it.

"But she's okay now, right?" Quinn questioned. Brittany nodded.

"She's supposed to be discharged tonight, if everything's still okay," she informed the group. They all visibly relaxed.

Brittany looked to Artie, feeling as though her heart had turned to stone and sunk in her chest. Not in the way that meant she at all regretted their breakup- in the way that meant that Brittany had truly wounded him, and didn't know how to fix it.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Brittany softly greeted as she entered Santana's room, carrying a teddy bear and a large, colorful balloon that said "Get well soon" in big, gold font. Santana's face split in to a smile as she turned her head away from the TV. She propped herself up on her elbows. Brittany noted that the color had returned to her skin, and she was no longer dressed in that horrible blue hospital gown. She'd swapped it out for a black t-shirt and a pair of Cheerios sweatpants.<p>

"Britt, you know I'm fine, right?" she giggled as the blonde sat down at the foot of her bed. Brittany handed the bear to her, and proceeded to tie the balloon around Santana's wrist that didn't have her IV in it.

"Hey, all I know is that my girlfriend's in the hospital, so I've got to do something about it," she joked.

"Girlfriend," Santana echoed. She repeated it, rolling the word over her tongue.

"That's what we are now, right?" Brittany asked, suddenly nervous.

"Yeah... in private," Santana replied with a nod.

"Well, I broke up with Artie this morning, so there's nothing standing in the way of us going public," Brittany said.

"Um, yeah, there is," Santana objected, fully sitting up. Brittany gave her a questioning look, puzzled. "Look, Britt," Santana sighed. "I know everyone knows about you. You know, how you're..."

"Bi," Brittany finished for her.

"Right," Santana said. "And I'm happy for you, I really am. It's just that... people don't know about me. That I'm... not straight. Or bi."

"Santana," Brittany started gently, taking the Latina's hand. "Um, I know, you don't know this, 'cause you weren't in school today, but, you're all anyone's talking about. Everyone knows about you. About us."

"Did you tell them?" Santana gasped, pulling her hand back.

"I didn't, I swear!" Brittany insisted. "They saw us kiss, Santana. Word gets around fast, especially when it's about you. You were captain of the Cheerios. You know that."

"Uh-huh," Santana sighed out, shakily. "Sorry, I...I'm really not ready for this," she whispered. Brittany felt her heart shrink upon hearing Santana's voice. It was small and broken, and Brittany could tell she was on the verge of tears.

"Santana," Brittany breathed. She paused, unsure how to continue. "I know this is scary. I'm sorry that you lost the choice to do this on your own terms. If I had the power, I'd protect you from all the bad things forever and ever. But, I don't, and I can't. I can promise you, however, that I'll be here with you every step of the way, and if anyone, _anyone, _messes with you, they'll have to take me down first."

"Britt," Santana quietly laughed. "You don't fight people."

"I don't. I don't believe in violence. But whatever it comes down to... I'll do it for you, because I'm in love with you," Brittany declared.

Santana looked around quickly, verifying that they were totally alone before leaning in to gently press a kiss to Brittany's lips.

"You make me brave."

* * *

><p>The next morning, Santana wasn't so sure she felt brave anymore.<p>

She and Brittany had resumed their morning ritual of getting coffee and driving to school together, but they were currently sitting in her car in the school's parking lot, fully soaking in what was to come.

"You can do this," Brittany murmured, reaching for Santana's hands. They were cold and clammy. "Look at me. It'll all be okay. You can do this," Brittany repeated, louder.

"I can do this," Santana echoed, tightening her grip on Brittany's hands. Brittany nodded, flashing her the biggest smile. Santana weakly returned the smile.

They got out of the car and started their walk to the courtyard. Santana held her coffee in her left hand, Brittany held hers in her right, and their other hands were clasped together, swinging slightly in between them as they walked. It was a bit of a chilly day, meaning that it wasn't weird for Santana to be wearing long sleeves. She knew it wouldn't hold up forever, though. She knew that one day it was going to be too hot and she was going to have to show the world her scars. She knew they were going to be permanent or at least stick around for a while, though. She had just cut too deep, too much.

They were early, as usual. They were normally among the first glee kids to get there, and today was not an exception. Just Kurt and Mercedes were seated at the table where most of the glee kids hung out together before school. They paused their conversation when they saw Brittany and Santana approaching, watching them with curious eyes. Brittany first felt Santana's arm brushing against hers, then felt her slowly pressing closer to Brittany's side. She gave Santana's hand a reassuring squeeze and lead her to the table.

"Good morning," Brittany greeted, sitting down next to Kurt. Santana was silent as she sat down on the other side of Brittany, huddling close to her.

"You too, Britt," Kurt responded, though he was looking at Santana.

"How are you feeling?" Mercedes asked sympathetically.

"I'm fine," Santana mumbled, focusing on her coffee. Mercedes looked to Kurt with an expression Brittany couldn't quite read.

"We know you're not fine," Kurt said, his voice having that weird tone that only he had mastered- sharp, yet still gentle. "And we know you're going to totally shut down once the others get here, so we just want to put this on the table right now. We're here for you, Santana."

"We know that what you're going through has got to be hard, and I don't really understand it, but... we want you to know that we love you, no matter who you love," Mercedes added.

Santana looked up from her coffee, eyes shooting daggers. The look scared Brittany. It made her think that Santana was going to shut all of them out already. She opened her mouth to make a biting reply, but immediately shut it, looking back down at the table.

"Thank you," she murmured. Brittany slipped a hand around Santana's waist and Santana leaned against her shoulder with a sigh. Kurt looked between the two of them, then raised an eyebrow at Brittany.

He started, "I don't mean to pry, but..."

"You guys _are_ together!" Tina shouted from across the courtyard. "I knew it. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it."

Santana jolted away from Brittany, hands flying in to her own lap. She started at the table's surface, embarrassed, shameful. She could feel everyone's eyes on her, not just her friends.

"Tina," Kurt hissed as she sat down at the table with the rest of them.

"What?" she asked innocent. Turning to Brittany and Santana, she added, "You two are adorable." Brittany glared at Tina, eyes shooting daggers. Santana still refused to look up, and was now visibly trembling.

Brittany went to take Santana's hand again, but Santana shot up and bolted in to the school, dragging Brittany behind her. Brittany tripped at the sudden change in pace, but was able to keep up. Santana pulled the two of them in to the nearest janitor's closet, slamming the door behind them and leaning against it. She was panting, less from the sprinting she had just done and more from the panic bubbling in her chest.

"Santana. Santana, look at me. It's all okay. Everything's going to be okay," Brittany assured her, despite her own worries.

"Everyone's gonna know now," Santana breathed out, eyes wide and brimming with terror.

"Yes, everyone. That's a good thing, right? It'll all over with," Brittany cooed.

"It's not over with, and you know it!" Santana snapped. "This is just the beginning! This is when they start throwing me in dumpsters or spray-painting 'dyke' on my locker or- or-"

"Look at me. Everyone knows I'm gay. Has anything like that ever happened to me?" Brittany asked.

"You're bi, Brittany. Everyone knows you're _bi,_" Santana snarled, her voice dripping with hostility. "Don't you dare compare yourself to me. You're a joke, Brittany! You're not really gay! You kiss girls, the girls think it's fun and the guys think it's hot!"

Brittany pulled back, offended beyond words. "Is that really what you think of me?" she asked, quietly.

"It's going to start happening to you, too!" Santana continued. "You and I, we're going to be everyone's punching bags now. Not because we fuck, everyone already knows that. Because I love you, and because you're pretending to love me for some reason!" There were now tears streaming down her face. She sobbed brokenly, feeling the familiar trembling and itching. She needed to cut. She needed to cut, _now. _She looked to Brittany, helpless.

Brittany surged forward, grabbing Santana's face and crashing their lips together. She kissed Santana for all she was worth, like she was drawing in her last breath. Santana's arms flew to Brittany's back, pulling her closer and closer until she was crushing Santana against the door. Santana gasped in to Brittany's mouth. She needed this. She needed Brittany, her love, to keep her awake and alive.

Brittany pulled back a fraction of an inch. "Did that feel like I'm just pretending?" she murmured. Santana shook her head, her heart fluttering.

"I love you. I love you so, so much. I've told you. I've shown you. I don't know how else to make you understand," Brittany continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I guess... I guess it's just hard for me to believe that anyone could want me at this point," Santana laughed harshly.

"I want you so bad," Brittany said, shutting her eyes. "You just... you can't shut down like this. This isn't the answer."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Santana apologized, wiping her eyes despite the fact that there were still tears gently rolling out. "I didn't mean it. I don't know what came over me. You're not a joke."

Brittany nodded slowly. "It's okay, I know what you meant," she responded.

"It was rude," Santana insisted. "I...I really should keep that shit to myself."

"No," Brittany said. "I want you to talk to me. I want you to tell me your problems. It's the only way we're going to fix this."

"Okay," Santana nodded.

"Are you ready to go back out there?" Brittany asked cautiously.

Santana took a minute to compose herself before responding, "Yeah."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_As always, thank you for reading!_


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